Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Dancing In The Dark

I had forgotten what it felt like. I had forgotten how free I felt. I had forgotten how the sounds filled my body with joy and the only thing I could do was dance.

I had forgotten how much I loved going to concerts and sitting on the lawn and being washed over by the guitar and the bass and the drums until there was nothing but me and the music.

I went to a lot of concerts in my teens and early twenties. It was probably my favorite part of the freedom I began to gain in high school. I would go with my friends, I would go with my Mom, heck, I even went once or twice with my Dad. Some were amazing (like Meat Loaf at the Fox Theater), some are now embarrassing to admit to (*cough* Nelson at the American Theater*cough*), some were historic (the 2nd to last Grateful Dead show EVER at Riverport), and some were downright bizarre (Spinal Tap, also at Riverport.) But at each one, I had the same feeling - I was free and it didn't matter who I was or wasn't with, what I was wearing or if my make up and hair were in place. The music would start and that was all I cared about.

Riverport, now known as Verizon Wireless Amphitheater, was always my favorite. The lawn tickets were usually affordable and it was a great way to spend a summer night. I spent my 21st birthday there at a Jimmy Buffet concert with my Mom, my Auntie DiDi and some very good friend who provided margaritas in the limo on the way there. I remember looking up at the stars during a REO Speedwagon concert during "Can't Fight This Feeling" and wishing on a star for the boy I was pining for. I still laugh about the date that bought me a rose at the Ted Nugent concert.

Sunday night, I was again on that familiar lawn. Other than the name change, the venue hasn't changed much. I have. I'm about 6 years older than the last time I was there (Poison & Kiss). I have two toddlers at home. I'm not the same person I was when I started going there or the person I was the last time I was there.

But when the music started, I had that old familiar feeling. As Tom Petty launched into his second song, "You Don't Know How It Feels", I felt that rush of freedom and I started to dance. And I danced until my legs hurt and I sang until I was almost hoarse. At one point, I caught my husband trying to record me with his phone. When I asked what he was doing, he gave me a big smile, kissed me, and said "I love to see you dancing like that." He hadn't seen that free in a long time either.

The concert was his Anniversary/Father's Day/Birthday present, but it was a present for me too. I remembered that feeling - the one I only got when the music was so loud my body would shake with the beating of the drums. It felt good.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Nobody Told Me There'd Be Days Like These

Remember when you were a teenager and being an adult seemed to be the answer to everything. You would have control over your life and be able to make your own decisions and determine your own destiny. There would be no curfew, no age limits, no restrictions on your freedom.

That was what you were living for - that time when you would call all the shots.

Boy, were we wrong about how great being an adult would be!

I enjoy some of the aspects. I wouldn't want to live thru high school again for anything short of 10 figures (yes, the price for me to relive my high school years is $1,000,000,000 - any takers?). I like that I can vote and drink at the same time should I so choose. I can go to any movie I want and no one asks where my Mom is. Most times, I am treated with respect by sales people and wait staff who realize that yes, I will purchase something and yes, I will leave a tip.

But that whole thing about making your own decisions - I didn't know how lucky I was. I would give anything some days for someone just to take the reigns and say "This is what you need to do" or "I will fix this". Not that Todd and I don't do that for each other - that's part of the compact called marriage. But it would be nice for both of us to be able to look at someone when the questions are too hard or the choices before us seem too confusing and know that they will take care of it.

I also wouldn't be opposed to being sent to my room once in a while or grounded. The time to cool down and to think would be lovely. But now, when my patience runs thin or my emotions are out of control, I can't turn and run and cry into my pillow and lament how unfair life is. I have my children and my husband and my job and all the other responsibilities I so desperately wanted to consider now.

But, I can't control time. I was going to grow up to be an adult whether I wanted to or not. So I will try to handle it with dignity and grace and set a good example for my children.

(I will also revert to weird nail polish colors like Yoga-To-Get-This-Blue and Funky Dunkey to make me feel a little less adult!)